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What if. Eeyore 17/03/28(Tue)07:08 No. 5360 ID: 6d4b9c
5360

File 149067773028.jpg - (1.37MB , 3264x1836 , 20170310_233942.jpg )

What if its when you die, you just keep living but in a world when all the things you want to do, you fail to accomplish, for whatever reason it may be. You just start sucking at life. You begin by losing your best friends, one by one, even your gf if you have one. Your parents start to get tired of you and simply stop caring. You do wake up at your bed as usual, you get up, look at yourself in the mirror and you just have this feeling inside you that this day will be exactly like the day before and so on. You go to your job, you get nothing done and your boss gives a fuck about it. You get out, start driving back home thinking that now that you are out and 'free', you could do anything. You end up going home, alone again, trying to get a hold of yourself and play those 3 o 4 chords you know with the guitar. You play the only song you learned, you put the guitar back in its place and you check your phone to see some notification or anything whatsoever. Nothing, just a Porn video o some political nonsense meme from your whatsapp's work group. You lay on the couch looking at the roof. You ate during the day but never felt hungry. You drink water and maybe sometimes its a refreshing feeling. Maybe you score some weed and you feel free of thought for a few hours. Or you drink half a whiskey bottle to get a bit of sleep, because you never get sleepy, just very tired. You never get sick nor hurt. You feel nothing.

Im 26. This is my life now. Im not and antisocial person, Im not autistic, Im not shy,I've become independant from my parents when I was 21, Bought a car, a flat, and I can afford pretty much whatever I want. Had gf's and never had problem to talk to women and flirt with them. When I was younger the only thing I wanted was to be able to be indepedant as exactly as I am now. I gave up relationships, sleep, time and swallowed all the sadness and anger I felt just to do it, and now, after one suicide attempt with my car five years ago, I really think I died and this is my lesson...


>>
Anon!moNoTOnous 17/04/01(Sat)23:32 No. 5373 ID: 1a9107

Sometimes, I crawl out of my shell and watch the news, or read the papers, and I see how fucked up it's out there. Then I look out the window and ponder if perhaps my suicide attempt was actually a success and I'm living in some deranged hellish dimension.
Good to know I'm not the only one.


>>
Eeyore 17/06/02(Fri)07:31 No. 5422 ID: 534415

I've recently been thinking the same thing. Two years ago I had a near fatal overdose, but I feel like I actually died and now I'm existing in purgatory. Every day seems to get worse. I haven't been able to sleep in years, because I know that going to sleep means the start of a new day is upon me. My perception of time is awful, each day feels like a lifetime, and as a result, I can barely remember things that happened over a week ago. I can't even use music as an outlet anymore, I'll write a song, work on it, lose motivation and convince myself it's garbage. If there is a hell, it is most assuredly something like this. An endless sequence of melancholy that slowly wears down on you, until you try to escape, only to re-enter another purgatory.


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Eeyore 17/06/12(Mon)00:41 No. 5435 ID: 544546

There is no purgatory or Heaven or Hell; there is only reality, which is already a worse torment than any author of fanciful scripture could ever imagine.

There is nothing but hatred and sadness in this world. I've gone from wanting to ignore it, to wanting to help it, to wanting to destroy it; but I already know that what I was doing first is the only one that is possible. That's what everyone else does. They eat, drink, consume alcohol, watch sports, work eight hours a day, smoke weed, hang out with friends, have sex — all it is, is meaningless inane base endorphin highs and distractions to keep their mind from looking at themselves and the world and seeing how ugly and disgusting it all is.

When I am alone and clear of mind (and not filling it with the jumbled nonsense hallucinations of drugs) is when I feel truly connected to the Universe. It's not a nice place; it's not a peaceful place; it's not a good place. Reality is a seething, angry, violent chaos completely bereft of meaning or purpose, filled with life that is just slightly more complex bacteria. Humans rose to prominence through the power of murder and unrestrained consumption, and it's never changed. It never will change unless someone can find that Big Red Button and push it. I would if I could. Life does not deserve to exist, does not have the right to exist.


Happiness isn't a thing you can acquire, or a state you can enter. It's a delusion. It's the knife-edge between wanting something and thinking you're on the path to achieving that something. Happiness is a child wanting to become an adult so then he can buy all the candy he wants, in blind ignorance that candy really isn't all that tasty to begin with, and it's only value is that as a child you don't get it very often. Happiness is getting a new romantic/sexual partner, and thinking that soon you might be able to have sex with them, in blind ignorance that sex isn't really all that pleasurable to begin with, and has left you disappointed many times before. Happiness is thinking that you're an important, productive member of society moving up your career ladder, in blind ignorance that your existence is pointless, and if you were to die the world would get along just fine without you. Whether you're a cog in a corporate machine, a productive artist, a beloved celebrity, or even a world leader, you are NOT NEEDED. The sun will rise tomorrow, with or without you; even those who might cry when they hear you have gone, will get over it and move on.

When I was little, a book and cartoon movie by the name of Charlotte's Web had a single line that's always stuck with me, spoken by the spider Charlotte as she nears her own death:

"After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die."

That's it. That's really, truly it. I was like six fucking years old when I learned this lesson, so it's slightly incredible that I've spent the next twenty-four years trying to fight it. The only thing that is more incredible is that there's countless millions of humans who never learned it and never will. If you spend your entire life waking up each morning and literally masturbating all day until it's time to go back to sleep, it would be a happier life than most have, and no more or less pointless.



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